up and down round and round
by patientalien
Summary: The morning after Thor arrives at the Compound, Bruce finds himself having to explain - yet again - what they're doing. It goes... okay. ENDGAME SPOILERS


Thor blusters his way out of medical the next morning, but Bruce can tell the only thing keeping him from yakking his guts out all over the place is the antiemetic Bruce had given him in the IV earlier, and that won't last for long. "Nevermind what happened last night," Thor is saying, scoffing like he does whenever they're talking about something he doesn't really want to be talking about. "Stark doesn't know what he's talking about." Bruce wonders if Thor even realizes he had been there last night, had seen Thor's condition for himself, had been the one to carry him down here and set up the IV (with Tony's help), had been the one who stayed awake all night monitoring his vitals and thinking.

He'd known Thor hadn't exactly been thriving in New Asgard. He would try to call, but every call he made was answered by the Valkyrie, who didn't give him any new information (_He's trying. Sort of. No, don't visit, he won't want to see you.)_, and every letter he sent was returned unopened. He'd expected Thor to have thrown himself into the running of New Asgard, to be running himself ragged for his people the way he had after Asgard's destruction, up until Thanos' ship had appeared in their path and made life a living horrorshow. That's what he had expected. He _hadn't_ expected the conditions of absolute squalor in Thor's home, or the same lack of care he has clearly shown himself. The changes to Thor's physique are the most obvious and glaring, but for Bruce, it's easy to look beyond. Thor's body hasn't changed nearly so much as his mind has.

Part of it is the alcohol, but not all of it. Probably not even most of it. No, the drinking is a symptom, and is masking the real depth of Thor's suffering. Bruce has known enough alcoholics in his life to know what it looks like, and knows the longer this keeps up, the harder it will be to bounce back. If Thor is able to bounce back at all, with how stubbornly bull-headed he is. From knowing Thor for as long as he has, and from his experiences on the Statesman what seems like a hundred years ago now, he knows that Asgard's solution to most problems is a great deal of mead. Why would Thor think any differently now? Bruce can't say he doesn't understand. But… but here's the thing… he should have seen this coming.

Maybe not _this_-this. Maybe not the extent of it. But he should have known that Thor was gearing up for a spectacular crash. Even as far back as Sakaar, Thor has been… not different, exactly, but _more._ More angry. More emotional. More _powerful_. More determined. Ridiculously so, absolutely incapable of being talked out of returning to Asgard to fight Hela. And then, just like that, Asgard was gone and Thor was King, and then Thanos had come. And then Loki had died. Bruce _really_ wishes he could blame Loki for all of this, somehow.

"Thor, man, come on, just hang out for a little while, I'll bring you some breakfast." He knows they can't keep Thor confined to medical for this entire endeavor, but man, it would make him feel better if they could.

Thor gives him a blank smile, and raises his hand. There's a shimmer of light and a bottle of ale appears in his hand. Bruce goggles at him - he has never seen Thor use any kind of magic besides his elemental powers, impressive as those are. What he has just done is definitely something more in Loki's repertoire. For a brief, terrible moment, Bruce wonders if the Thor in front of him is actually _Loki_, working to ruin his brother's reputation for some reason only he would understand. But no, Loki is no good at staying under the radar for very long. His sense of the dramatic would have made him unearth himself from hiding a long time ago, were he really still alive. "How did you do that?" Bruce asks, finding himself fascinated despite the worry about Thor being able to summon alcohol to his hand whenever he feels like. Bruce hadn't been around Loki as _himself_ for long enough to figure out the science behind the summoning trick, but maybe he can - no, stop, he can't think of his friend as a _science experiment_.

"Thought about what I wanted and what I wanted showed up," Thor replies as if that explains everything. He takes a long drink from the bottle and Bruce can't ignore how relieved he looks at that first taste. "Lo - my, you know, he, the magic one, he taught me. After, you know. Well, before. But after. You know." Bruce can guess: Loki taught him, between Asgard's destruction, and Thanos' attack, possibly knowing Thor might need the skill in order to retrieve the Tesseract. "Best trick ever!" he adds, summoning a second beer as he finishes the first. That had been Bruce's dad's ritual too. Well, not the magical summoning. But the beer for breakfast, to stop the shakes, because now that Bruce is looking, Thor's hands _are_ shaking.

"Haaa, yeahhh, that's a good one, bud," Bruce manages to chuckle. "But you know what goes great with, uh, what is that?"

"New Asgardian ale."

"Well, nothing goes better with that than some scrambled eggs and toast. What do you say?" They've got to get some decent food into him or having him here isn't going to do any good. Bruce hadn't been kidding when he'd said Thor was malnourished. Not _under_nourished, clearly, but badly so, as if he hasn't had anything besides takeout pizza and alcohol for the entire five years he's spent in exile. Bruce finds he would only really be surprised to find out that _wasn't_ the case.

Thor blows a raspberry and straightens slightly, looking up to catch Bruce's gaze. His eyes are bloodshot and bleary, and Bruce frowns as Thor informs him, "No, this is a perfectly acceptable Asgardian breakfast."

"It really isn't, bud," Bruce replies softly. "Thor. Do you know what we're doing here?" He puts an enormous hand on Thor's shoulder. It used to be that only Hulk had a chance of handling Thor, but Hulk's emotional intelligence was that of a small child. Bruce cant help but feel grateful for the breakthroughs he has made, both with his own relationship with the Other Guy, but the fact that cooperation is giving him an edge when it comes to dealing with Thor now.

In the cabin, Thor hadn't even seemed to realize what he was doing when he'd grabbed at Bruce's shirt, gripping so tightly Bruce was surprised the fabric hadn't ripped. If he'd done that to _puny Banner_, it would have really hurt. But Hulk could take it, and Bruce was able to talk him down. Sort of. Regardless, like Tony had said, Thor is here now and that's what matters. The hard part will be keeping him here, especially once Bruce clarifies what he is sure is a gaping hole in Thor's memory of the events of yesterday.

Confirming his suspicion, Thor says, "Doing here? Mmmmm, lemme guess, is it a reunion? A wh-where're they now sorta thing?" He raises the beer to his lips and drinks, blinking the bottle out of existence and creating a new one just as quickly. Bruce makes a mental note to ask Tony if there's a way to disrupt that little magic show. Forcing Thor to quit drinking cold turkey might not be an option, but neither is letting him get to the state he had been in last night again. "Not -" he belches and continues as if it hadn't happened - "interested. Now, f'you'd just point me in the direction of Stormbreaker, I can get myself home." Bruce kind of doubts that. They'd brought Stormbreaker, of course - and the half of the trip back to the Compound he hadn't spent examining and worrying over Thor had been spent trying to keep Rocket's hands off it. Still, Bruce sincerely doubts Thor's ability to navigate successfully back to New Asgard.

"I mean, I guess it's sort of a reunion," he says with a shrug, dreading what's about to happen, cursing Thor for making him repeat the experience of telling him the news. "We have a way to stop - that guy, to fix everything - _almost _everything - that happened. You agreed yesterday to help."

"Phsssh that doesn't sound like me," Thor snorts, but his eyes are darting around nervously and his breathing has picked up. "You must be thinkin' of somebody who wants anything to do with - with -" His voice breaks. "You tricked me."

Bruce winces. It hadn't been their intention, but there is a certain truth to it. If Rocket hadn't bribed Thor with alcohol - taking advantage of his already intoxicated and vulnerable state - Bruce wouldn't have to be having this conversation. They should have waited for Thor to sober up a little, they should have talked through things a little more. But no, they'd grabbed him the moment he'd shown the barest interest and now it turns out he doesn't even remember it. Bruce feels a little sick, and a little disappointed in himself. "Thor, I'm sorry," he says, holding up his hands. "I really am, but we need you."

Thor shakes his head, mouth pulled down in a deep frown, blinking quickly and focusing his eyes on the floor. His breathing is harsh, shallow, too fast, and Bruce recognizes the signs of a panic attack. "Oh, hey, hey, it's okay," he assures Thor, putting one hand on his chest and the other on his back, putting pressure in both places to ground him a bit. "I'm really sorry, Thor. I wasn't a good friend to you yesterday."

Thor swipes at his eye. "You're a really bad friend," he agrees moodily.

"You're right," Bruce murmurs. Not only had he forced Thor into agreeing to something he shouldn't have been agreeing to in his condition, but he hadn't done anywhere near as much as he could have to help him before this. True, they all had needed to take time to take care of their own needs and well-being, but Bruce is sure he could have found more time. Could have pushed the matter harder. But he hadn't, and neither had anyone else. "You're right," he repeats. "I am a really bad friend. But I want to try to make it up to you."

"So you'll take me home," Thor says. It's not a question. "'Cause it's supply run day, and Val gets all testy for some reason." For some reason. Bruce knows Thor isn't stupid, much as he acts like he is. Surely he knows full well what is making the Valkyrie so testy. Bruce can't imagine it's easy for her to see her king falling into the same pit of alcoholic despair Thor himself had helped pull her out of.

"_Please_, Thor," Bruce pleads, squeezing the god's shoulder. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Just - stick around a while. We've missed you." They'd all agreed, after all, not to push too hard. To just _keep_ him _here_, not let him run back off to New Asgard and entropy.

Thor works his jaw, considering. "Not because of you," he says after a moment. "I'm not staying for you. I'm staying cause - cause -"

"Because that's what heroes do," Bruce murmurs, remembering Thor's words from an entirely different life.

Thor laughs, humorlessly. "Whoever said that's an idiot."

Bruce winces, realizing that the chances of Thor snapping out of this are slim to none. They're going to have to work around it, just like Tony said. "Yeah, he kinda is," Bruce mutters. "But he's my friend, so…"

Thor seems to consider this, sipping his beer and eyeing Bruce warily. "You said there were scrambled eggs?" he says, finally. Bruce nods, relief flooding through him. With his hand on Thor's back, he guides him out of medical and towards the communal kitchen. "I'd also like a tequila sunrise," Thor adds, imperiously.

"Mmm, we'll see," Bruce responds. "I thought you had a cool party trick for that."

Thor shrugs. "Only works the first couple times," he replies and Bruce can't help breathing a sigh of relief, glad Thor is too much of a novice at Loki-level magic to be able to do it while inebriated. One less thing to worry about, at least. "I'm not gonna be much help," he says suddenly, shoulders slumped. "Just so you know. I - you can't -"

Bruce squeezes his shoulder. "I know," he says softly. "It's okay. We're just glad you're here, buddy." It's the truth, and that's what matters, whatever else happens.


End file.
